Far From Home - Scorbus, Short Story
by ExtraordinaryElliot
Summary: Unwanted. Unloved. The reasons why Albus Potter was never happy until he died. The people who hurt him, and the one who stood by him. TW - cutting, suicide


The first time Albus Potter cut himself, he had was in second year.

With the razor in his hand, tears in his eyes, he dragged the blade across his skin over and over, pale cheeks coated in tears. Scorpios was outside the door, asking if he was done with his shower - the warm water was washing away the blood that flowed from his wrist freely, and the wounds burned at his nerves. But Albus wrapped it up, dressed, and put on a fake smile - because if the son of the _great Harry Potter_ showed even a hint of sadness, the whole of Hogwarts would be asking what was wrong. Maybe that was why he liked Scorpius so much - the younger boy never cared about Albus' parenthood, or his background for that matter. He saw Albus as a friend, someone who was there for him when every other student shunned him for his parents. For the rumors. And, frankly, Albus was the same. He didn't care that Scorpios might be the son of Voldemort, or if one of his parents happened to be Draco Malfoy.

None of that mattered as long as they had each other. So why did he always push Scorpios away when his friend asked was wrong? Was it because of the overwhelming voice in his head, telling him that Scorp didn't care? Or was it because he knew Scorp cared so much? Caring was a ... sensitive subject for Albus. He knew what it felt like to be cared for as a child, but he had grown. Been sorted into Slytherin. Been shunned, spat at, bullied. He wasn't about to allow Scorpios, who had stayed with him for their entire career at Hogwarts, to think him as weak.

The next cuts weren't so bad, when Albus thought about it. And itt wasn't the first time he'd come up to the Astronomy tower.

No. It was not. In fact, the third year Slytherin had been coming to the very top of the tower every time everyone else was at Hogsmade. He'd burned the paper - causing his father to be angry, of course - and he'd watched it burn, wondering what it felt like ... dying. He supposed it was a beautiful thing, not being weighed down and not being a disappointment to his family. Would they even miss him if he _did_ jump? What would his sister do when no one in the house wanted to play tea-party? What would his brother do when no one was there to take the blame for his pranks? And God, what would his mother do, his loving mother who had done nothing wrong. What would she do when she realized she was never there for him? And his dad - what would ...

Oh. Right. His father ... now that was a different story. The man would be upset at first, but than he would realize it was for the best. Better to have his awful son out of the way so his two other children could step into the spotlight, he would say. He would go on normally, a weight lifted off his shoulders - because that's what he had learned over the last three years of his life; to his father, he was nothing but a burden. A burden that would die before fourth year, would bring shame and sadness to his family, would...

But what about his friend? His best friend, the dorky blonde boy who had somehow found a place in the boy's cold heart? The boy he had met on the train as the headed to the castle, full of hope and wonder and love. As much as he wanted to die, he couldn't leave his friend behind. He had always been there for him, through thick and thin, and now - well, now it was his turn to be there. The boy had already lost his mother. There was no need for him to lose one of the only other people who would ever cared about him.

So he stepped back from the ledge, saving himself for another day - but he was quick to come back.

It was maybe two, maybe three days before be was looking over the forest, so high up he could feel the oxygen thinning. He'd grown smaller - he hadn't shrunk, but from not eating he was scrawny and starved, with dead eyes and robes that never fit. He'd been given concerned looks from the teachers as he went from class to class with robotic motions, turning in his homework on time and acting terrified when they looked him in his eyes. He'd been called into many classrooms, been asked if he was okay, if everything was alright at home. And what was he supposed to say? _Oh, I just feel unloved so I'm thinking about ending my life today. Tea?_ Right, because _that_ would blow over _so well_ with his family. And what could he honestly do? No one would believe him, the son of the Great Harry Potter, to end his life over a little sadness. He'd be told he was being silley, pet on the head and sent to his next class. And if they saw the scars? Well ... maybe that's why Hogwarts should've hired teachers who were more tempted to help their students.

"You're upset." It was his friend, coming to stand beside him. He looked over the edge of the tower with fascination, muttering about how the veiw looked wonderful. Than he coughed, turning around. "Is it something I did?" He shook his head, and the blonde sighed with relief. "That's good - it's good that we're good. Great, in fact. Fantastic. Amazing." He noticed the annoyance creeping into Albus' expression, just a well placed hint to cause Scorpios to pause. "I'll stop. So why are you sad?" His pale eyes were shinning, a bright smile on his face. The older boy smiled hesitantly.

"My dad. You know, with everything that's been going on ... never mind. What's up with you?"

"Oh! You'll never believe what Rose said to me today..." He could barley listen - he kept looking over the edge, wondering how far the drop was. Wondering if it could kill him. He was _so close_ to falling, but he couldn't with the youngest Malfoy standing next to him. He wouldn't dare traumatize his friend like that - put him into a state of shock so bad that it would ruin Scorp's innocent mind. So when Scorpius grabbed his hand and asked if they were going to lunch, he went right with him, the fear of living pulling at his heart.

Scorpios never did let Albus out of his sight again.

* * *

His brother came next.

It was strange, James asking him if they could talk; usually, he wanted nothing to do with younger sibling because they were in different houses and, to be fair, the younger brother always ignored him. But Albus couldn't say no - in a few days, he decided, he would be a pile of broken bones at the bottom of the tower, pale and dead and ... finally happy? And for whatever reason, James _finally_ wanted to spend time with him, something that hadn't happened since Albus was sorted into the house that was loathed by even except its students. "So, I heard from Rose that you haven't been eating?"

Albus tensed as James' words reached his ears, disappointment tugging at his heart. Of course James didn't want to hang out - he was just worried his stupid little brother would get him in trouble with mommy dearest. "We both know Rose doesn't like me - no reason to worry," he argued, waving the accusation off. James frowned, feeling a surge of overprotective brotherly instincts coming into play. He wrapped an arm around Albus' shoulders, giving him an easy-going grin that would have been fine, if not for the serious intensity of his gaze.

"Look, man, mom is going to be pissed if she finds out, and I really don't want to be the one to tell her, so I think it's in your best interest-"

"And what the hell would you know about my 'best interest' when you don't even bother to spend time with me?" Albus wrenched himself out of James' grip with a surprising amount of strength. He rubbed his temples, frustrated. "Why did I think it was a good idea to talk with you? And mom has nothing to do with this! In fact, her and dad haven't sent me a single letter since I first got here, so I think I'm good on the whole 'her caring' situation," Al snapped. His brother was staring at him with a sad expression, and he barley heard him mutter something about going back to his friends. The younger brother continued down the hall, stomach growling but not willing to bend to his brother's wishes.

Lily came up to him as he went on his way to the tower - which was beginning to feel like a home to him. She flashed a smile at him, bright and bubbly, as she linked her elbow with his; he allowed her to, feeling a little safer with her by his side. They paused in the middle of the hallway. "I haven't see you all year! Isn't Hogwarts great? I've met so many nice people - it's absolutely amazing! Mom and dad wrote - they said hello and that they miss you, too, of course." She was suddenly nervous, and it occurred to him that A) Lily had been at Hogwarts for three months and never sought him out and B) She had just come from James' direction. He shook his head, separating from her and walking away. "We're worried about you, Albus! We want the old you back"

"Well that's a bloody first! What about the last three years? Couldn't bother, I suspect!" he yelled back, shoving past two more groups of people as he continued his way to the tower. His friend was right behind him, looking worried and confused - Albus allowed him to catch up before pulling him into a shadowed corner, his hands shaky. "Please, I just need to be alone." Scorp nodded, tears beginning to fill his own eyes as he heard Albus' voice crack. The youngest Potter boy decided against his own wishes, instead wrapping an arm around his best friend and allowing himself to be lead back to their common room.

He locked himself in the bathroom, slicing at his wrist and leaving spots of blood on the counter.

* * *

Being separated from his best friend was like dying.

Was killing yourself supposed to be painful? As painful as leaving Scorpios behind? He was always looking around, hoping to spot a glimpse of the blonde hair or the pale eyes, maybe a small wave, too. It was awful, being in Gryffindor - the house he had always wanted to be part of was full of arrogant prats who couldn't tell stupid from brave and were always getting him into trouble. Even being in the house had no effect on people; still shunned, he had lost his only friend. His family ignored him even more - in fact, James had shoved him into the walls, laughing with his _stupid_ friends about how _weak_ his little brother was. Lily had taken to telling her friends his biggest secrets and most embarrassing stories. And Scorpios? Well, Albus never did figure out why the boy started covering up his wrists.

The tower was beautiful. And looking over the edge, he was, again, given the thought of dying. He spread his arms, planning on doing it. And than he stepped back, going into the castle to look for Scorpius. Because a thought had occurred to him, an idea that would put them both back where they belong. And it had worked, of course - that was how things ended for the Potter family. Great. Amazing. Happy. But the story of Albus and Scorpios was far from over - they still had four years to go, after all.

Fourth year was the deal breaker - arms spread, face pale, tears in his eyes.

 _So this is how a legend dies,_ he thought bitterly. He could see the students, talking and laughing. He could see his best friend with his cousin, arms wrapped around each other as their adventure came to a close. He had written the letters, placed them by tables and sent them by owl. If he was really going to kill himself, he had to do it soon. The Headmistress would surely be up to the tower in a moment. But still, he waited. He listened for the running footsteps and for the door to be opened. And than he sighed, smiling widely and getting to his feet.

"So this is why you're missing?" It was his sister, hugging herself as he willed her to go away. Her voice breaking with each sentence, her wild red hair whipping around her face. " _This_ is why you couldn't just face us and say that you were hurting yourself?" He didn't answer - he never did, didn't he? She began screaming, hysterical. "Turn around and face us, Albus!" He did, looking her square in the eyes. His family stood behind her, angry and upset. He suspected that his friend would be up soon, and knew he had to act fast. "Tell us that we're not worth living for, Al. I dare you."

"The thing is, I can't. You'd still try to stop me." He took a deep breath, feeling himself relax. "There's only one person I think is worth living for, but Scorpios Malfoy doesn't seem to be here at the moment."

"Al-"

"That's not a name for you, dad. You can call me son or burden - after all, that's what I am to you, right?"

"No, honey, that's not-"

"It's not up to you, mom. It's up to Harry."

They stared at each other, willing the other to move. But it wasn't his dad who spoke up - no, it was the blonde boy from first year, the one who had, somehow, found a way into the boy's darkened heart. "You can't do this - you can't leave me alone. Not now, not after everything we've been though. Please, Albus." Pale eyes begging for a second change, sobs coming from most of his family. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Scorp. Maybe that's why we can't be together." A smile. A scream And than he fell.


End file.
